There are two types of hunts; those that are good, and those that are great. This hunt happened to be great. From the second I found out that I had drawn my first choice tag I explained to my father that I wanted to shoot a big buck this year. My goal was to shoot buck bigger than last years, a 3 point or larger. Weeks of anticipation and preparation flew by and before I knew it my hunt was upon me.
The alarm started buzzing at 3:00 A.M. and a half hour later my dads truck was fired up. We were ready to rock n’ roll! We rolled up to our huntin’ grounds aapproximately 45 minutes before daylight. I was feeling optimistic after passing several deer on the way in. With the rifle in hand and daylight quickly approaching, my father and I both knew it was time to wear off some boot tread. We headed up the mountain and were in, as my dad would say, “prime deer country.” We reach a small knoll at the base of the hill and quickly began glassing. After about 30 minutes I had decided as the only tag bearer of the family, it was my job to bring home the meat.
I made an agreement with myself that if I seen a buck, no matter the size, I was going to take him. An hour into glassing we decided to move to a rock outcropping 300 yards away. We hadn’t made it 100 yards when we jumped a group of 7 bucks. Just as I shouldered my rifle, my dad whistled and stopped the largest buck in his tracks. Presenting me with an abnormally perfect broadside shot, I centered my reticle on the buck’s chest. Squeezing the trigger, I let the lead fly.
We knew I hit him hard as he ran with his nose down over the hill. Our tracking job ended 20 yards from the impact site. My dad spotted the expired buck and we rejoiced. I raised up the head of the 4×5 buck and smiled as my dad took pictures for the memory book. 2 hours later the deer was field dressed and in the back of the truck. Its the unpredictable moments in hunting that keep me hooked. I can’t wait for the moment when I get to help my dad pack out a buck and repay the favor.
Author: Trevor Heyer
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